Bear With Me
by Copper Tragic
Summary: Estel cannot sleep and cries whenever he is left alone. Sleepless nights begin to take their toll on Elrond and he, along with Glorfindel and the twins, begin their crusade to settle the child once and for all.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places thereof  
  
*****  
  
Estel did not know why he was running, nor where he was running to nor what he was running from. He knew that he was running, his little legs moving and carrying him not at all fast enough, and that knowledge was enough for him.  
  
He also knew that he was afraid. It was night, which meant darkness, and he had had the dream again. In the dream the Creatures came, they came and they killed his father but Estel never saw them...For this he was all the more frightened.  
  
Estel tripped and fell down. He bumped his knees against the floor and scooted away, resting at last with his back against the wall. In the new language, the one he found his lips speaking, he said with difficulty, "Go...away."  
  
"Estel? Oh, Estel."  
  
Estel did not know who had found him but instinctively trusted the newcomer. Elrond lifted the boy into his arms and rocked him, speaking softly to calm him. "It is all right, little one....you are safe." When Estel fell asleep he had one thumb in his mouth and his other hand firmly clutching Elrond's tunic with a grip like death.  
  
*****One Year Later  
  
"Elrond, there is a new message from Lothlorien you might take an interest in, your sons send word of their concern and hope you are well, and I will be riding out this spring, although I cannot say for sure when I shall return I am certain you will manage without me."  
  
Glorfindel strode confidently across Elrond's study, his speech uninterrupted and matching his brisk rhythm. He threw open the curtains, drenching the room in natural light, and looked out on the early-winter panorama. Trees had few leaves remaining, save evergreens, and the leaves of grass moved as the winds bade them. Glorfindel smiled. "It's a beautiful day," he observed.  
  
The lack of response worried him and he turned to look at his friend, truly look. Elrond sat at his desk with a pen in his hand and a thoughtful look on his face, but the blankness of his eyes betrayed him. Glorfindel waved a hand in front of his friend's face.  
  
"Elrond, wake up," he said, shaking him.  
  
Elrond's eyes snapped shut, then opened quickly. "Did I miss anything?" he asked.  
  
Glorfindel laughed. "Other than twenty-five winks, nothing."  
  
"Ai..." The Lord of Imladris sighed and rubbed his face to wake himself more fully. "Glorfindel, it is not healthy for him or for me. Estel has nightmares whenever he does sleep, the poor child cannot be left alone or he screams..." Glorfindel knew of there screams, and he understood that they were not the demands of a spoilt child but the wails of a terrified boy. "I tire of this, Glorfindel. I am sick of exhaustion, I miss feeling rested! I despise that I am constantly permeated with the smell of urine--yes, he is only a child, but sometimes I feel he causes enough trouble for ten children!"  
  
All trace of merriment had gone from Glorfindel's face. He respected the seriousness of the situation. Estel, the young Heir of Isildur, was now three years old and a one-year resident of Imladris. In that one year he had attached himself firmly to Elrond, brooding whenever separated from his adopted father. Estel, a boy whose head was not quite right from birth, had grown swiftly and steadily among the Elves and was now healthy, though not without imperfections beyond those of the average child. Perhaps out of fear of the dark or of abandonment, Estel had trouble sleeping. He wailed when left alone and often awoke crying from nightmares.  
  
Given the violent death Estel had witnessed not long ago, that of his father, who could wonder at his bad dreams? But the many sleepless nights were beginning to take their toll on Elrond. Glorfindel had noticed more than any other, being present at every one of the meetings in which Elrond fell asleep, but until not regarding the matter as insignificant.  
  
"There must be some way to make a child sleep," Glorfindel said, and in that way their crusade began.  
  
*****  
  
To be continued  
  
Author's note: Sorry for the short chapter, the next one will be longer. 


	2. 

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places thereof  
  
*****  
  
Glorfindel confided in Elrond, "All day I have had an adolescent sort of giddiness about me."  
  
Elrond turned to his friend, disbelief and faint horror written in his face. For a long moment he struggled with various conflicting emotions, then at last he said, "May you have many children, Glorfindel. May you find a wife, and may she bear you many children."  
  
Glorfindel watched Elrond stride ahead of him, not understanding this curse in full. He ran to catch up. "Whatever can you mean by that, Elrond?" Glorfindel asked.  
  
"What I can mean by that," answered Elrond, his tongue sharper than Glorfindel had ever heard before, "is--"  
  
Before he had the chance to finish this statement, something, or perhaps someone, very small and swift dashed around the corner and attached itself with some violence to Elrond's leg. "Yes, Estel?" Elrond asked in a voice not far from laughter. Glorfindel thought of horses, the feeling in their muscles when, though the rider bade them trot, they wished nothing more than to canter. That half-a-step from breaking gait feel was the same as the sound of Elrond's voice, only half a word from laughter.  
  
Estel giggled as Elrond swung him into the air and, sobering, Estel nestled peacefully against his father's chest. Without a thought he moved his thumb to his mouth.  
  
Still puzzling over what in Elrond's earlier tone had so disturbed him, Glorfindel spoke in Quenya, a language Estel did not yet understand: "Would you like me to put him down for you?"  
  
"Put him down?" Elrond questioned. "This is a child, not a horse, Glorfindel! Thank you, but no, I will put him to bed. He would not accept you in my place."  
  
This statement had been made not of vanity but of hard-learned fact. None, not even Elladan and Elrohir, could leave Estel to his rest save for Elrond. In truth he minded little, because--Elrond thought--when a boy has seen his father slain, he needs proof that he will not be abandoned again.  
  
Estel's bedtime ritual, for ritual it had become, had a strange sort of paradox to it. Though Elrond could have gone through the motions in his sleep, Estel would never be satisfied unless he believed that Elrond believed every word he said.  
  
"Ada," Estel asked, when he was lying beneath the covers but not quite ready to sleep yet, "how come Elladan and Elrohir don't have a bed-time? They get to stay up as late as they want to."  
  
"Elladan and Elrohir are adults. When you are an adult," Elrond promised, "you will not have a bedtime either. In fact, when you are an adult, you will want to sleep!"  
  
Estel giggled. "Not me, Ada, not ever! When I grow up I'm going to never, ever sleep again!" He behaved like such a happy little boy before he slept; he was such a happy little boy before he slept. The nightmares and fears of the night before fled his mind the moment the sun showed her radiant face.  
  
Amused at the prospect, Elrond answered, "You are welcome to try this! All right," in a more efficient sort of tone, "you ought to be asleep by this hour, Estel. Good night, child."  
  
"Good night, Ada."  
  
Once Estel had been kissed goodnight and hugged, twice, he curled up and closed his eyes. In mere seconds his breathing began to even and deepen. Elrond smoothed the blankets over Estel and tucked them beneath the child's sleeping body, then gently took Estel's wrist and took his thumb from his mouth. Estel squirmed and whined in his sleep, and replaced his thumb.  
  
Elrond laughed quietly. "All right," he conceded, "but only tonight."  
  
In the corridor, Elrond encountered Glorfindel. He was glad for this, needing to apologize. "My behavior earlier was completely inappropriate," Elrond said, before Glorfindel so much as opened his mouth.  
  
"You frightened me, Elrond," Glorfindel admitted. "I have never before heard you so...raw."  
  
Elrond sighed. The two walked side by side, watching their steps fall into unplanned synchronocity. They left roofs behind and made their way out into a garden of roses, blooming eerie reds and yellows, pinks and whites under the moonlight. "Around Estel, I cannot speak my mind for he is too small to understand. It has been so for many years, for before Estel the twins...Some times I need a release. Forgive me for snapping at you."  
  
Glorfindel nodded. "Consider it forgotten. What are friends for, after all?"  
  
"I do not know, to be honest, and somewhat dislike sharing this trouble of Estel with you."  
  
"From whence springs this selflessness?" Glorfindel asked. "Why would you sacrifice yourself for the happiness of others?"  
  
"Oh..." Elrond kicked at a clod of dirt. "It was just after Celebrían...You know, when the boys first brought Estel here he was little more than an underdeveloped child likely to die ere his fifth year began, yet now he is quite like to the twins at that age."  
  
Elrond yawned, and Glorfindel told him, "Go to bed, Peredhil! Ai, crazy! If Estel awakens this night, I will see to him."  
  
"He'll never have you," Elrond warned.  
  
Glorfindel drew his dagger. "Sleep, Elrond, before I induce this condition with the blunt end of a dagger!"  
  
Laughing, Elrond wandered back inside. Glorfindel shook his head. "Bless his tortured heart," he muttered.  
  
*****  
  
To be continued  
  
Sorry for the short chapters, but school's gotten pretty hectic just now so I'll try to write short chapters and post often, instead of longer chapters ages apart. Please be patient with this!  
  
French Chipmunk: Er, he won't. This story will not feature Legolas in any small part. 


	3. 

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places thereof  
  
Glorfindel swept down, slashing through air, bone and flesh. Blood flew, but the warrior hardly noticed, already spinning to desecrate another monster in his glorious dance of battle. As the Orcs fell at Glorfindel's hand, he spun and cut with deadly accuracy and undeniable beauty.  
  
Suddenly a bigger Orc faced him, one larger than he had ever seen. Glorfindel cut upwards, but the Orc met his blow. In a stunning repost he flung his blade forward, only to again be blocked, this time by a rough scimitar. Yet Glorfindel did not doubt his ability. He slashed forward once more in a daring, dangerous motion, exposing his left side. His sword pierced the Orc's thick hide, and as the creature's life left it, it snarled, then began to cry.  
  
Cry? Glorfindel shook himself awake. The crying continued. "Ai, Estel!" He had forgotten. Perturbed to have had a dream of battle's glory, knowing all too well the violence and disgusting nature of such things in truth, Glorfindel felt quite thankful to Estel for the wakening.  
  
In the pale moonlight, Estel was nothing but a quivering heap of blankets. Unaware of this, the child continued to cry. He could not help it. Every night he dreamed of the Creatures, and they frightened him, and to wake alone...Estel hardly knew any longer who he expected, so long had that person been away. The boy was beginning to forget.  
  
For a moment Estel paused in his crying, and Glorfindel smiled, believing that he had succeeded in calming the boy. But Estel only took a breath and continued with his hysterics. "Estel..." Glorfindel searched his mind. He didn't know what to do! What would Elrond say? Unfortunately, all Glorfindel could hear in his mind were the shades of their recent argument. Knowing at least one thing for sure, Glorfindel lifted Estel into his arms as gently as possible.  
  
Not a minute later the warrior was knocking hard on Elladan's door, muttering, "Wake up, Half-elf, wake up..." and various unrepeatable things. As Glorfindel rapped on the door, his knuckles beginning to ache, he could have sworn that the child's cries increased in volume! His ears certainly felt all the more abused. "Elladan, open this door!" Glorfindel called, and Estel squalled noticeably louder.  
  
"What are you doing to him, Glorfindel?" Elladan demanded, bleary.  
  
For a moment Glorfindel could say nothing, shocked by the similarities to Elrond he had never before seen in Elladan. The tossle-headed raven boy, rubbing sleep from cloudy eyes, could easily have passed for his father-- perhaps not to anyone knowing them well, but to a vague acquaintance or from a distance...Swiftly he recovered himself, and whispered, "Elladan, I cannot calm him down, will you take him?" and he held out Estel.  
  
"Glorfindel!" Elladan snatched his foster-brother away and cradled the child. "That is not the way to handle a child!"  
  
"Pardon my ignorance," Glorfindel snapped back, "but how should a child such as yourself--"  
  
"Will you hush? You are upsetting Estel; do you want to wake my father? You see how he fades. For a night let him take decent rest." He kept his voice low and even as he spoke harsh words rocked the child in his arms, hoping to lull him to sleep.  
  
A new voice joined their conversation then. "It is too late, Elladan."  
  
Ah. Now Glorfindel observed the differences in father and son. Elrond's temper remained in check as he took Estel from Elladan. His face showed age and sorrow in deep lines and in the tiredness of his eyes. Elrond looked from his friend to his son, steely-eyed. "Settle this," he said, in a tone not to be argued with, and before either could protest he had disappeared back into Estel's cell.  
  
Guiltily, Elladan and Glorfindel looked away from each other. Elladan spoke first. "Why you?" he asked.  
  
Glorfindel gave him a withering look. "The reason you have just given. Elrond is my friend, Elladan. Yes, I see him fading day by day. He is exhausted. I was trying to help!" He remembered in the nick of time to keep his voice down.  
  
Elladan crossed his arms over his chest. He leaned over to peer through the open doorway, and watched his father speak to a now calmed Estel. "Well then," he answered, much surprising Glorfindel, "you will need my help."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Glorfindel." Elladan sighed, and regarded Glorfindel in such a way that the elder remembered his pupil of days ago. "You cannot even hold Estel without he cries. You need me. Now swallow your pride, and accept my help."  
  
To be continued  
  
I know, I know, this wasn't so good. While this story will be seen through to completion, I suspect it will not be of high quality, as I interact precious little with children and find them difficult to write. Sincerest apologies! 


	4. 

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places thereof

"Estel," Elladan said, "shall we race?" It was an indulgent question, for Elladan could of course have been three times home and back by the time Estel reach the door, but when dealing with a small child, Elladan knew better than to do his best. Letting Estel win, so Elladan hoped, would at the very least give the boy some momentary glee, at the most buoy his sense of self-confidence.

Estel grinned. "Yes!" he cried, and began trotting ahead.

"Cheater!" Elladan teased. "Leaving me in the dust." He half-jogged after Estel. As he chased his brother, Elladan wondered if it was because he was the eldest that he had this patience. Elrohir had been with them off and on that day, but Elladan had not left Estel's side. With quite a bit of help from Elladan, Estel read nearly three pages of a relatively simply written history before losing patience. They visited the 'horsies', as Estel called them, then raced down to a small stream, no more than a few inches deep, where Estel could safely splash about. Mostly he stood on the bank, wriggled his toes in the mud and giggled like mad.

In such a manner they day had passed rather quickly. It was Elladan's first plan: tuckering Estel out in the day might make him sleep more deeply at night.

Estel tripped on his own feet, but before he hit the ground Elladan caught him and swooped him into the air. Elladan had always been protective: of Estel, and Arwen before him, and Elrohir before her. It was in his nature. He might tease some, for he did like to laugh, but when it came to his younger siblings, Elladan was an absolute bear to any who wished them harm.

With a squeal of delight Estel flew through the air, still locked safely in Elladan's grasp. "All right, little screamer," Elladan said. The sky was purple behind them. "Let's put you to bed."

Estel was suddenly solemn, and turned grey puppy-dog eyes on Elladan. "Want Ada," he said, pouting.

Elladan smiled to himself, wondering if Estel knew just how manipulative that look was. "Then we shall find Ada," he said, and they set off to do just that.

As Elrond went through the ritual of answering Estel's questions, hugging and kissing him, then sitting by his side until he fell asleep, Glorfindel, Erestor, Elrohir and Elladan stood across the corridor, watching through the open door. "Do you ever think he is overindulgent?" Erestor asked. "Estel has learned by now that he can get what he wants by crying. Is that the best lesson to teach him?"

"Erestor!" Elladan exclaimed, scandalized by the mere suggestion. "I do not believe Estel capable of understanding such a concept. He is just a child. He's _frightened,_ Erestor." Erestor smiled a mocking smile, for Elladan would never think ill of any of his siblings. He exchanged a look with Glorfindel, and mutual knowledge was silently communicated. Recognizing this, Elladan asked, "Do you not remember Legolas of Mirkwood, after the death of his mother?"

The memory came to Glorfindel sooner than to Erestor: "He slept in your bed for nearly a month."

"And Estel's situation is much the same, but because he is so young..." Elladan shook his head. "Imagine having two memories. One is of your father. You do not know he is your father as such, only that he loves you and cuddles you and holds you when you are frightened. Imagine this person is not one but two, and one you have seen bloodied and hurt, then never seen again. Would you not fear awfully losing the second?"

Elrohir slipped his arms around his brother's shoulders and hugged him tightly. Elladan grasped Elrohir's hands. "Love you, Elladan," Elrohir muttered.

"Love you, too, Elrohir."

Elladan's recount of Estel's childhood, his explanation of that terror, brought the twins closer together. They had to be certain, for just a moment, that the other was safe and all right. Then they drew away as though nothing had happened.

Elrond faced the quartet, then shook his head. "What is your horrid scheme this night?" he asked.

"Elrond!" exclaimed Erestor. "Ghastly Peredhil, how dare you make such allegations?"

The others laughed. "Oh," said Elrond in a conspiratal tone, "I see. Good luck."

"Say rather, good night, ye of little faith," Glorfindel reproved.

Again Elrond shook his head. "You are far too jolly. It is most unnerving. But good _night_." There were many echoes of this sentiment, and the half-elven lord disappeared. The four stood in silence and stillness for a few moments, then Erestor said, "Well then. Who wishes to take first watch over the vile child?"

To be continued

Erestor is based on a friend of mine who is really quite a nice person

I've been on holiday for the past month or so, but in the words of Samwise Gamgee, I'm back. This story is first on my list of stories to complete.

Reviews are always appreciated!


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